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(actors) joe flanigan - blue

chiasmus in freezer_penguin

[wip] part 1 (part 2?)

8DDD the dumb Neverwhere!Tenipuri fic I started. Hur.

Shishido's head was pounding when he woke up, the bitter aftertaste of alcohol still in his mouth made worse by an night's sleep. He didn't think he had drank beyond what he knew as his limits, though if requested to recall the previous night now he would be hard pressed to provide details after a certain point.

There had been a party to celebrate a recent find on the archaeological dig he had assisted with -- a shard of metal yet fully identified, in surprisingly good condition though dating a couple thousand years back. The gathering had consisted mostly of a lot of wine and stories that would have probably struck more interest had he been thirty years older. He had mostly stuck to his fellow students, taking both sincere congratulations and barbed compliments in stride as he had been the one to discover said artifact at the site. Oftentimes he was known for his touchy sense of pride and occasional short temper, though this time even he would admit this had been a matter of luck rather than skill.

Halfway through the night their part of the party had shifted to one of the bars downtown. He hadn't taken note of the name, just noted with faint distaste the neon lights that seemed trying to create some bizarre tropical atmosphere. The blindingly pink flamingo with goggles hanging around the S-shaped curve of its neck had been a bit much, for example. The first round of drinks had been on him, and then the rest of the night degenerated in a fend for yourself free-for-all.

That was where the lines of memory began to blur.

He had flirted with a girl with striking blue eyes that he suspected were about as natural as her near bleached white hair. He could dimly remember telling her in general about his internship and what he had found. He wanted to say that she had pressed for more details, though in the light of morning that seemed unlikely as most people lost interest in archeology once they caught on that what he did was more about meticulously poking through dirt rather than sweeping into hidden shrines and escaping spiked walls. They had talked for a while after that, but he was having trouble recalling her face, much less her name.

It didn't seem to matter as much now since she seemed to have left him with no more than disconnected moments. Frowning, he rolled over onto his side and stumbled out of bed, shuffling his way toward the kitchen. Cold water splashed over his fingertips as he spilled some when pouring from pot to machine before flicking the on switch. He grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and downed it, leaning against the counter to rest a moment. The pain in his head starting to lessen to a dull ache rather than the sharp crack that wanted to press its way through his skull. He drank some more water, slower this time, and decided he was in definite need of a shower.

The scent of coffee permeated the kitchen and began a slow crawl through the rest of the apartment as he headed back toward the bathroom. He turned the taps, adjusting the water to just below scalding before stripping off and standing beneath the spray. The heat helped clear his head, a warm blanket that fell over him in streams and washed away any lingering traces of the night. With the rest the faceless girl seemed washed away and he couldn't help wondering why he had bothered to think of her at all; they couldn't have possibly have spoken as much as he was trying to give credit to. The rising steam made the air thick and difficult to breathe. With a lurch of his stomach he felt unexpectedly sick, something seeming to shift unnervingly in his perception that he could neither determine nor describe. He pressed his forehead against slick tile. Shadows that had no source seemed to dance in and out of his peripheral vision, nebulous forms that if he turned he knew would not be there. His hair fell around his face and stuck to the back of his neck in a dark veil, the wet strands making his skin crawl.

Then the world righted itself in an instant.

His mind was playing tricks on him. It was merely another consequence of a late night and too much tequila. This explanation settled easily and he finished washing up without ceremony, toweling off before he wrapped a towel around his waist. The coffee would be ready by now; once he had the first cup he was sure he could get on with the rest of his life completely as usual.


August 2011

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